Dead Inside
by Lotus-01
Summary: Grief is not a one step process. Post FIAD.
1. Hammond

**Dead Inside Part I - Hammond**

* * *

Daniel sighed as he slowly made his way to General Hammond's office. He knew why he had been summoned. Ever since he had been released from the infirmary, practically every single person on the base had come to pay their respects, and quite frankly, he was sick of it. I'm so sorry for your loss, Dr Jackson. Is there anything I can do, Dr Jackson? How you holding up, Daniel? I'm here if you need to talk, Daniel. But he didn't want to talk. He didn't even want to think about it. What he wanted was to go back to his office and study the artefact that SG-6 had brought back from their latest mission. He wanted to lock himself away and bury himself under a mountain of paperwork, pull and all-nighter with only a jug of hot coffee for company. He certainly didn't want to see the General and endure what was surely another heartfelt condolence.

Why didn't they understand that he had just wanted to be left alone? He knew Jack and Sam were worried about him, concerned about his apparent lack of grief. He hadn't even cried for her. He'd just plunged himself back into his work. What they didn't realise, and what he wasn't going to tell them, was that he'd already lived with the grief, already cried all the tears he could, already said goodbye to her. He knew how painful his grief was, and he didn't want to go through it all again. Sam had been insistent, trying to coax him into talking about it, sharing his pain with her. But he couldn't tell her, or Jack, how he couldn't live with the pain, couldn't make himself deal with it again. How he didn't sleep at night in fear that memories of her would invade his dreams. Asleep he was vulnerable, awake he could keep himself occupied.

And Teal'c…Teal'c had been avoiding him, for which he was thankful. He was there when he had awoken the first time after it happened. Had stood there stoically in pure Teal'c fashion until they were alone. He had apologised then, first for his part in her abduction and then in her death. But, he had said, he was glad that Daniel was alive. He had said the words _You did the right thing, Teal'c. _And in his head, he had forgiven Teal'c. After all, Sha're had asked him to – demanded it of him. His head knew it was the right thing, but in his heart, he knew it would be a while before he was able to believe it.

The funeral had been almost identical to the one in his dream, standing there in his Abydonian robes that mirrored the sand which slowly covered the body of his wife. Praying for her soul in the words of her people and his own, watching as the earth consumed her. He hadn't listened to Kasuf as he tried to console him, convince his Good Son to stay a while. "We are still your family" he had said, "You are still my son". But Daniel had turned away, mumbling a pitiful excuse he knew Kasuf didn't believe. But he hadn't pushed. That was the thing about the Abydonains; they never forced him to talk if he wanted to be alone. Except for Sha're, who always had a way –. No, he didn't want to think about that. He couldn't stay here in the place that had been their home, where the air was as thick with memories as it was with heat and sand. He couldn't face it, couldn't bring himself to conjure up any emotion or a way to express his grief, and didn't want to.

He still felt dead inside.

Daniel knocked on the General's door, and entered with apprehension. Hammond was working on his laptop, finishing a report with his cumbersome two-fingered typing. Daniel remained near the door, keeping it open in hope that he could make a quick escape. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

The General looked up from his work; "Dr Jackson" he gestured to the chair opposite "Take a seat". Cursing inwardly, Daniel shut the door and made his way over to the chair. This wasn't going to be easy. Or short.

"Dr Jackson, I have been approached independently by several of the people on this base expressing their concern about your condition of late"

His condition? What, was his life the subject of talk around the water cooler now? They weren't content to just leave him alone with his grief, now they had to go behind his back to Hammond? Daniel clenched his fists. They had no right. But he kept his voice even, so not to display his anger, "Sir, I come here every day, and I work for you. I translate and I analyse and draw conclusions. I do my job. And with all due respect, Jack, Sam and Dr Frasier have no right to say what my 'condition' should be at the moment".

"They are just worried about you, Doctor, and to be frank so am I".

The General was staring at him now, but Daniel still didn't raise his head. He kept his gaze focussed on the desktop and when he spoke, he was barely audible. "My wife is dead, General. I'm…coping". He struggled to choke down a sob.

"I don't think you are, Doctor Jackson, and neither do the people who have spoken to me about this matter". Hammond took a deep breathe before continuing; "I am granting you two weeks bereavement leave, effective immediately. Dr Rothman will perform any duties necessary during that time" he finished, in a tone Daniel could tell couldn't be argued with. Daniel licked his lips before retorting; "Is that a request…or an order, General?"

Hammond sighed; he hadn't expected the good doctor to take this lying down. "I would prefer it not to be, but it will become an order if it has to". Seeing Daniel's stoic and obviously unhappy countenance, Hammond decided to try a different tactic. There had been a sense of familiarity to Jackson's behaviour in the past weeks, one that had struck Hammond close to home. "I understand what you're doing, son" the General said, his voice gentler than Daniel had ever heard it. "I know that grief is painful, and you're trying your hardest not to think about it. You think that if you keep working, keep yourself occupied you won't have to feel that pain".

Finally Daniel raised his head. Before he had always seen the General as a great man and a fair commander, but he had never really seen him as a person before. Suddenly Daniel wanted to know what this man's life was like outside the SGC. What he was like when he went home and the stars came off.

When the general spoke again, it contained something Daniel had never heard in his voice before. Pain. "My wife died seven years ago".

Daniel was stumped "I…didn't know that, sir"

"It was cancer. Afterwards I threw myself into my work. In the Airforce there is always something that needs to be done, a mission that needs attention. I got so wrapped up in trying to forget that I didn't give myself the chance to grieve. She deserved that but by the time I realised it was too late. I don't want the same thing to happen to you, son. I don't want to see that kind of regret again".

Daniel was silent for a long time. There had been several attempts, by Sam especially, to get him to talk about Sha're, to let his grief out. He remembered during his dream, almost breaking down over sharing his memory of the first time Sha're had seen his ballpoint. It was a simple, happy memory and it had almost destroyed him. He couldn't imagine what he would feel if he let anything else slip. He wasn't forgetting, he told himself, he was protecting himself, just like he had done all his life.

"I appreciate your concern, General, but to be honest I really don't need a lesson in dealing with grief" he allowed a small note of bitterness to creep into his voice. Oh, no, he didn't need to be taught how to deal with his pain. He'd graduated from that particular school with honours. Although the death of his parents and the other subsequent losses in his life had never felt quite like this, the sharp, undercurrent of pain that he knew was coursing through him, waiting for the right time to strike. He had been so young when his parents were taken from him, too young to understand anything except that he was alone and it hurt. He'd gotten used to the feeling, a desolate wasteland of love that was his life. Sha're had loved him so much, more than he had ever truly understood. He hadn't understood love, but grief? He knew it all to well.

"I know that, son" the General continued in that strange, soft voice. "But you have to choose the best way to honour the memory of your wife. I made the wrong choice". The words cut at Daniel's heart, and he sat across from Hammond in silence. Honouring Sha're didn't end at her funeral, he realised. Was he being unfair to her memory by locking his feelings away? Thinking only of his own grief when she had suffered, endured and died for him? He thought he could just move on, that he would be able to handle his grief if he just shut it away. But that wasn't fair to either of them, he realised. Daniel had to grieve her as he had loved her – with passion and without reservation. He would do that, just as he had promised her he would find the boy. Her son. Daniel looked up to see the General's understanding face, and felt compelled to spill his secret. He hadn't dared tell Jack yet…he would never believe him, Daniel was sure. He thought better to wait, until he knew more than just a vague reference to Egyptian mythology. But the General had just shared with him an intimate secret and Daniel felt compelled to do the same. Besides, approval from the top could only help his chances at finding Kheb. Careful to remove all pain from his face, and replace it with gratitude, Daniel addressed the man before him. "Sha're had a son, General, as you probably know". Hammond was surprised, but answered in the affirmative; he had read the mission reports and had never pressed the matter in respect of Doctor Jackson's privacy. "Before she died…I promised her that I'd find him" he continued, carefully leaving out the specific details of her message through the hand device.

Hammond wasn't foolish, however, he knew that there was no way for Daniel to have spoken to Sha're in that tent before she was shot, but he remained silent as Daniel continued. "I don't know much, but I do know he was taken to a place called Kheb…which I assume is the name of a planet or city of some kind". Seeing the General's expression, Daniel pressed on rapidly; "I have also learnt that if a child is born of two Goa'uld hosts, like Sha're's son was, he possesses their genetic memory. He's a Harcesis, a human boy with all the knowledge of the Goa'uld. Personal reasons aside, he could be beneficial-" He stopped at the General's raised palm asking for silence.

"How do you know all of this, son?" he asked evenly, knowing he probably didn't want to hear the answer. He was even more convinced when he saw Daniel take a deep breathe and shift slightly in his chair. "Sha're…communicated to me through the hand device" he admitted. Hammond began to stop him, but Daniel pressed on, leaning forward in his chair and speaking quickly to avoid any interruption. "I know it sounds crazy, General, but while Amaunet was trying to kill me Sha're was able to send me the message about her son. I know you probably think it was just a dream…a subconscious vision to help me deal with her death but I swear to you it was real. I promised her I'd find the boy General…I…" his voice faltered a little. "I promised her".

Hammond was silent for a moment, and Daniel feared the worst. Maybe they'd send him back to that nice comfy white room in Mental Health. But Hammond simply reopened his laptop and continued typing. "I will inform all teams to keep an eye out on missions for any sign of this…Harcesis…or any reference to Kheb" he said. Daniel was stunned. "Wait…you believe me?" he asked incredulously. Hammond smiled, still looking at his computer screen. "I've seen too many impossible things to dismiss this outright, son. Simply being alert won't cost us any manpower, and sounds to me like this boy could be a great asset if he is found". Hammond glanced up from his computer screen briefly to meet Daniel's eyes. "I know what this means to you Daniel. Dismissed".

Slowly, Daniel was able to stand up from the chair, close the office door behind him, walk through the hallways of the SGC, to his car parked outside. He didn't bother going to his office first; he was too wound up to think straight. Daniel managed to turn the key in the ignition, put his foot on the accelerator and drive himself home. Once in the driveway, however, he stopped. Two weeks, he thought, with nothing to occupy himself, except the single thought he had been trying to avoid. She was dead. Sha're was…dead. Inside the silence and emptiness of his soul, Daniel cried for the first time.


	2. Jack

It was past ten o'clock when Jack O'Neill climbed the six flights of stairs to Daniel's apartment.  His place was nice enough, in a good neighbourhood, but it had no elevator.  Jack had a sneaking suspicion that Daniel liked it that way.  It was hell on his knees, but tonight he was too anxious to notice.  Hammond had told him this afternoon about Daniel's forced leave, but that wasn't what he was worried about.  What concerned him was that he'd left the base without so much as a word to anyone.  A stable Daniel Jackson didn't leave the base with a half–finished translation and a cup of coffee still on his desk.  Jack had left several messages on Daniel's answering machine, before he was unable to get through.  So here he was, checking in with his wayward archaeologist. 

Jack hadn't been surprised at Daniel's behaviour after Sha're's death as some of the other's had.  He was worried about him, but not surprised.  Worrying about Daniel had seemed to be a full time job for all of them recently.  Teal'c locked himself in his quarters in endless sessions of Kel'no'reem, Sam fretted endlessly, following Daniel around the hallways, and Jack was just plain concerned.  He remembered the look in Daniel's eyes that first time on Abydos, after Sha're had been gunned down by that Jaffa.  His desperate pain, his frantic disbelief, and that was after he'd only known her two days.  He couldn't imagine what he was going through now, but he wasn't going to leave him alone for it.

The door to Daniel's apartment was locked, and Jack knew there was no way Daniel was going to answer it.  He managed to jimmy the lock, for his own good, Jack reassured himself.  Instantly he was struck by the look of the living room, usually kept in meticulous order, artefacts adorning the walls and bookcases.  But the floor was littered with shards of glass and porcelain, paper and dark stains.  The phone lay on the floor, its cord ripped from the wall.  Daniel Jackson sat in the middle of it, on the couch with his head slumped.  The half full bottle of liquor on the table and the glass in his grip didn't escape Jack's notice, nor did the bloodstained napkin that was wrapped around his other hand. 

Tentatively, Jack stepped through the mess on the floor and stopped by the couch.  Not too close, he thought, not yet.  "Daniel?" he asked softly, hoping to rouse his friend in the gentlest possible way.  When Daniel lifted his head, Jack was struck by the haggard look on his face.  Bright blue eyes stared out at him blankly from red and swollen rims.  Dried tears dotted his face as his mouth twisted to let out a horrible, choking laugh.  "Jack!" he cried, "You can't ever leave it alone, can you?" he drawled.  Jack expected him to be angry.  Lord knows he hadn't wanted to see anyone after Charlie's death.  Daniel was probably furious he had come, especially after he had been the one to let him down.  _We'll find her, Daniel.  I promise._  It had been purely meant to comfort him at the time, but Jack knew now he never should have said it.  Daniel had believed it, believed in him and he hadn't delivered.  Yeah, Jack was probably the last person he wanted to see right now. 

"Colonel Jack, come to fix poor Daniel's broken heart" he slurred, and Jack noticed immediately that Daniel was dead drunk.  "Well I'll let you in on something, O'Neill with two l's" he continued.  "It's not something you can cello-tape back together.  The pieces are scattered to the wind" he waved his arm and lost half of his drink to the floor.  "Like Osiris" he added as an afterthought.  Jack slowly lowered himself to the arm of the couch, still a safe distance from where Daniel sat. 

"How much have you had, Daniel?" the last thing he needed was alcohol poisoning on top of everything else.  "Wellll…" Daniel started, discarding his almost empty glass in favour of the bottle.  "I started with wine…but that didn't really work so good…well…whatever.  The rum was okay, the whisky even better.  But the vodka…the vodka is perfect.  Dries me out, you see.  No more tears" he pointed clumsily to his wet cheeks.  All the while, Jack edged closer, until he was seated next to Daniel on the couch.  "Daniel…" he began, reaching for the bottle, "I know what you're going through".  With a resolute smash, the bottle of vodka shattered against the apartment wall, leaving it's contents dripping onto the floor.  "No you don't!" Daniel cried as he jumped away from him, backing away from the couch shaking his head.  "You don't know a thing about what I'm going through". 

Daniel seethed with anger, and began to pace the room.  "You think you understand…you think you know…but you don't.  You have no idea!"  As suddenly as it had appeared, his anger dissipated, and Daniel slumped onto the couch opposite.  "She's dead" he sobbed, his head resting between two hands.  "She's dead, Jack" he said, raising his head slightly "And I killed her".  Jack recognised this…a drunken self-pity he had seen so often in himself.  He moved to sit on the table, directly facing the broken man before him.  "It wasn't your fault, Daniel" he tried to reason, even though he knew it wouldn't do much good.  "For so long after…Charlie, I knew I'd killed him.  My gun.  My arrogance.  But it was an accident".  Daniel turned to look at him, a strange smile on his face, "But Sha're wasn't an accident, Jack.  Teal'c may have shot her, but I'm the one who killed her".  He hauled himself up again from the couch and walked to the other side of the room, pulling a fresh bottle of vodka from the cabinet. 

"I left her there, Jack.  I left her in that pyramid to get captured and tortured and…" fresh tears formed in his eyes as he choked the words out.  "It was my fault".

"Daniel" Jack moved order to rest a hand on the younger man's shoulder.  "You never stop blaming yourself" he said gently.  "You never feel any less guilty, but it does get better.  It takes time…but it does get better".  He stood there, a reassuring hand on Daniel's shoulder, listening to his ragged breath, watching his chest rise and fall.  Eventually, he reached to pry the alcohol bottle from Daniel's limp grasp, pleased that he didn't put up a fight.  They stood in silence for a few long moments before Daniel spoke, his voice much calmer now.  "Remember when you told me that sometimes you could forget?" he said.  Jack nodded in the affirmative, he remembered that night well.  "That's what I fear most" Daniel admitted.  "Forgetting.  That after a while I'll forget the exact colour of her eyes, the smell of her hair, her laugh.  I'll forget what it was like to hold her, the way she used to scold me when I stayed out in the desert too long, and how I made it up to her". 

"Daniel…"

"I know, Jack, I know.  'It's healthy to hold onto those memories'.  But what if I can't?  What if I wake up one morning and all I can remember is that there was once a woman I loved?"  Daniel stumbled over to the couch and collapsed onto it, hands coming up to cover his face.  The bandage around his palm was brought to Jack's attention.  Leaving the Daniel on the couch for a moment, Jack went into the kitchen and rummaged around in search for some soft of first aid kit.  Jack settled for a wet rag, some antiseptic and a fresh bandage. 

Returning to the living room, Jack sat himself next to Daniel, who was in the same position as he'd been left.  Carefully, Jack pried Daniel's injured hand away from his face, relieved when he didn't protest.  Fresh tears had formed on his face, but he made no effort to wipe them away.  Jack had only seen Daniel cry once before, recovering from his sarcophagus addiction, and the similarities to his present state were striking.  Pushing those unpleasant thoughts from his mind, Jack focussed and cleaning Daniel's hand.  Carefully unwrapping the makeshift bandage, Jack winced as he saw the cut up flesh of Daniel's palm.  "Jesus, Daniel, what happened?" he questioned.  Daniel remained silent, but a quick glance around the room was more than enough proof.  Shattered glass lay in small piles across the floor and near the walls, and it wasn't too hard to conclude that Daniel had taken his anger out on his glassware. 

It appeared Daniel hadn't paid too much attention to his injury, probably thanks to the natural dulling effects of the alcohol he had consumed.  He didn't even flinch as Jack removed a shard of bloody glass from his palm, or when he poured a generous amount of antiseptic over the wound and fresh blood appeared.  The pair sat in silence for several minutes, Daniel staring vacantly into space while Jack attended to his wound.  He seemed to be sobering up ever so slightly, Jack noticed happily, at the very least he was past the irritability and anger.

Daniel brought his hand up to view his freshly treated wound.  Staring at the bandage, Daniel took a deep breathe.  "Sha're used to laugh at me" he finally managed to say.  "Said she never knew a man who got into trouble as often as me".  A soft almost-smile graced his lips as he continued to stare at his hand.  "She was always having to treat one injury or another – a bruise from falling down a rockshaft, a cut from trying to reign a wild mastage.  She used to laugh – and I swore the sound was from heaven".  Jack smiled, pleased he was at least opening up about Sha're.  Daniel had never told him much about their time together, and Jack never asked.  But he knew from experience that it was best to think about the good times – it was the only thing that kept you sane. 

The two men sat in a companionable silence for a while until Daniel asked suddenly "Have you ever been happy, Jack?"  He was surprised a little, but answered a little too quickly "Of course I've been happy".  Daniel was suddenly energised again, sitting up rigidly, grasping Jack's forearms until he swore there were going to be bruises forming.  "No, I mean _really _happy" he said, a note of desperation in his voice.  "So happy that you couldn't even imagine, so that every moment felt like a dream that you didn't deserve".  Daniel released his grip on Jack and broke down again, tears brimming in his eyes, his face crumpling in despair as he lost the energy to hold himself upright.  His head fell heavily onto Jack's shoulder, and he cried into his jacket.  Jack let him stay there, patting him soothingly on the back, even though the position was uncomfortable as hell.  "But I woke up" he barely heard Daniel mumble into his shirt.  "I woke up".

Heaving an unconscious Daniel into bed was not easy task.  The younger man had managed to pass out some time ago, but not without crying enough tears to fill the Nile.  At least he was over the worst of it, Jack comforted himself.  He was past the numbness and the despair, the uncontrollable anger at the world and at himself.  He'd be fine…eventually.  Only bothering to remove Daniel's shoes, Jack dumped him unceremoniously onto the bed and pulled the covers around him.  With any luck, he'd sleep it off.  Which is what Jack planned to do…as soon as he was finished by the bomb site that was Daniel's living room.  He sighed as we worked his way through the piles of glass and porcelain.  At least he'd managed only to break his kitchenware it seemed, along with a few glasses.  Most of the artefacts in Daniel's collection remained untouched.  Right, Jack thought, so he'll have nothing to eat or drink with but he can keep the archaeological ambience of the room. 

 Sorting though some of the piles of paper, Jack soon came across some ratted parchment amidst the field reports and junk mail.  It was written in Abydonian, but it wasn't Daniel's hand.  It was decidedly feminine, it must be Sha're's, Jack concluded.  Yep, definitely Sha're's he decided, noticing the smudges in the ink which were obviously tear stains.  Daniel must have had it in his robes, tucked away somewhere when he came back to Earth, a keepsake from Abydos.  It could be a letter, a writing lesson, or something as simple as a shopping list, Jack chuckled.  But now it was part of Daniel's memory, the only thing he really had of her.  He couldn't keep the clothes she had been wearing, they were Amaunet's, as well as being tainted by a huge gaping blast hole in the chest.  Jack abandoned his cleaning and sank down onto the couch, staring at the small piece of paper in sorrow.  Things would never be the same, for Daniel, or for the rest of SG-1.  The ghost of Daniel's wife, rather than the ghost of Daniel's hope, would haunt his team forever.


	3. Sam

**Sam **

* * *

Sam trotted into the commissary and spotted her target, the Colonel, seated at a table eating his cereal. Well, not exactly eating. He had one elbow and arm on the table propping up his weary head, and he looked like he was going to fall into the bowl before him at any second. "Sir" she greeted him as she took the seat opposite and he barely looked up in recognition. "Rough night, Colonel?" she asked, hoping he was lucid enough to fill her in on a few things. The General had told her this morning about his visit with Daniel, which meant the Colonel had known about it last night, in which case he would have flown over to Daniel's apartment as fast as his cranky old jeep could take him. "Yeah Carter" he replied, eyes still glued to his cereal "I've been Daniel-watching all night". She winced in sympathy "Yes, the General told me about forcing Daniel into taking bereavement leave". Jack clucked his tongue; "Was the only was he was going to take it, short of me physically knocking him out and dragging him back to his apartment".

"How is he?" she asked tentatively, knowing that the answer wasn't going to be good. Jack snorted; "Do you mean aside from getting completely hammered, almost trashing his apartment and blaming himself for everything that's happened the past few years? He's fine". At least he was finally facing it, Sam thought, instead of bottling up his feeling and acting like nothing had happened. "Maybe I should go see him" she suggested, more to herself than to Jack.

"I wouldn't bother at the moment, Carter" Jack replied anyway. "I left him snoring in bed with a big bottle of aspirin and a teddy bear. He'll be fine for the moment".

Sam nodded and stood up, leaving the commissary to head for Daniel's office. Maybe she would pick up that translation he was working on and take it over to him. She knew that Daniel would go insane without something to work on, and it would save him a trip to the base. She had felt so helpless since Sha're's death, that she felt even doing that small thing for him might ease her mind. She was very surprised, then, to see a conscious Daniel Jackson sitting at his office desk. Conscious, she noted, but not exactly alert. His eyes were red-rimmed and tired, in fact, his entire face was weary, like he hadn't slept in a year.

Clutched in his hands was the framed picture of Sha're that sat in pride of place on his desk. It had been taken by Ferretti on the first mission, right before the team came back, so Jack had told her. It had been Brown's camera, but he hadn't survived and Ferretti had taken ownership. He had told Sam himself that he just had to get a shot of the woman who had captured Jackson's heart. But like so many things after that first mission, the camera had been discarded and forgotten about, until Ferretti had come across it one day while cleaning out his apartment. He had presented it to Daniel, framed, with great pride, boasting about the beauty of his artistic skills. Sam remembered Daniel saying that maybe it had something more to do with the subject, and had surprised everyone when he'd given Ferretti a brief hug.  
It had surprised them even more when Ferretti hugged him back, saying it was his contribution to bringing Sha're back to him.

It had sat on Daniel's desk ever since, Sha're's small, coquettish smile driving him on. But now it was in Daniel's hands, and she watched him as he traced Sha're's face with his fingertips. "Thought you were on leave" she said into the silence, and Daniel flinched slightly. "Yeah…I…um…needed to get a few things". Sam knew he wasn't talking about the translations. "The Colonel gave me the impression that you were knocked out cold" she replied, trying to lighten the depressingly dark atmosphere of the room.

It seemed to work, as Daniel gave one of his half-smiles and replied "Yeah, well I'm not as cheap a date as Jack thinks I am". For some reason, Sam was at a complete loss for words. She had never felt uncomfortable talking to Daniel before, but now a silence yawned between them, one she didn't know how to break and Daniel didn't seem to want too.

""Uh…" She struggled for an opener, but couldn't find one. So many possibilities flew threw her, but she discarded them all as unacceptable.

The knowing smile returned. "You want me to talk".

Relieved, Sam latched onto the conversation; "Only if you want too". She moved to sit on his desk so that she was next to him, if he was ready to open up.

"You always wanted to know" He placed the photo back onto his desk. "But I never talked to you about it"

"What?" she prodded gently, ready to listen to whatever he wanted to say.

"On Chulak that first time, when you asked me about Sha're"

"And you said she was a gift". Sam pursed her lips slightly, remembering being outraged when she discovered that little fact, that the man she had come to admire could be so…barbaric.

A wry smile touched his lips. "No, actually it was Jack who said that. But I never explained…about "accepting" her. I know what you must have thought"

"No, Daniel -"

He held is index finger up to stop her, like he always did when something needed to be explained. "I was wearing the Eye of Ra – the amulet that Catherine gave me. That's why they sent her. I was in the middle of this alien culture, had no idea how to communicate, or how to get us home…and there she was. I didn't understand, that Kasuf was offering her as a bride, not just as a…" he swallowed heavily. "She thought I was rejecting her, that I did not… 'want her'". The small smile again brushed his lips and his voice grew wistful. "She spent our wedding night teaching me her language". His head bowed slightly and Sam put her hand over his in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

They sat in silence for several moments before he spoke again, abruptly. "She was killed in Ra's pyramid, did you know that?" Sam was surprised, she had heard the story about how they killed Ra many times from the Colonel, but he had never said anything about that. "Shot by Ra's Jaffa" he almost choked on the words, realising how similar it was to her true death. Sam continued to hold his hand, wrapping her fingers around his and urging him to continue. "That's when I realised…I mean…that's when I knew. I saw her lying there…she had been protecting me…" he forced down a sob. "She always protected me" he finished quietly.

When it was clear he wasn't going to continue, Sam gently prodded him "You took her to the sarcophagus on Ra's ship". He nodded, before letting out a sigh "I don't know why I'm telling you this" he said, turning away from her. She moved closer to him, "No, Daniel" she said softly "I'm glad that you feel you can share it with me…how much you loved her". That fact she had always known, hell, his love for his lost wife was almost legend around the SGC. But to hear him talk about it, throwing himself into Ra's clutches to save a woman he had only known a few days, it was a love she could only dream of. She had never felt that way about anybody, certainly not about Jonas, her encounter with Narim had been wonderful but brief, and she was more confused than anything about Martouf's sweet affection. Immersed in her thoughts, she barely noticed Daniel pull away from her, move to stand on the other side of the room, facing his bookcase. Confused, she moved to follow him, but was stopped short by his curt words.

"'You've never really known what love is have you?' Do you remember when I said that, Sam?" His voice had a slight edge to it, although this time she knew it was not directed at her. She was frozen to the spot, unpleasant memories flooding back to her. Under the effects of the sarcophagus or not, there was a truth to his words that had struck home. He had apologised afterwards of course, mortified that he would have taken a stab at her like that, and she had forgiven him. But she had been confronted by that fact that he was right, and hearing him talk about Sha're had just proven it to her.

"I know I was wrong Sam, about you. But now I think I was wrong about me too. I don't think I've ever known what love is".

Although completely surprised, Sam found the will to move again. This wasn't about her love life, this was about Daniel and he needed her. "Daniel" she kept her voice steady, "You and I both know that's not true".

"Do I really? I mean, have I really behaved like someone who knew what love was? I haven't exactly been a faithful husband" He spat out.

Sam drew closer to him tentatively, like someone would a wounded animal ready to lash out. "Daniel, you can't blame yourself for that, you were…unduly influenced" she tried to put delicately.

"What about Ke'ra?" he threw into the room, and the sound of his voice echoed off the walls and into the silence. Sam took a deep breath. They had all been surprised, shocked even, when Daniel had become attached to the younger version of Linea. It had been only a week ago, and only a month since the death of Sha're. At the time she had been confused, she still was, that he had moved on so quickly. But she could see now that he hadn't moved on at all, that he was still rooted in his grief and she didn't know how to help him. "Daniel" she began hesitantly "Just because you were attracted to Ke'ra doesn't been you loved Sha're any less"

"Doesn't it, Sam? I think that's exactly what it means. Obviously I didn't love her as much as I've been claiming these past three years, that's what you all thought, right? If I'd loved her like that, I never would have allowed Ke'ra to kiss me, I never would have kissed her back. I would have been able to bring her back to Earth that time on Abydos when she was pregnant. I never would have left her alone in the pyramid…" He trailed off and faced to shelf again, fingering the dust covers of his books. "She wanted to come, you know" he continued softly. "She wanted to share it with me, but all I could think about was showing you – proving to you – that I was right". He laughed, but it was small and bitter and it chilled Sam's heart. "All of this, Sam" he gestured around him, to his books and notes and collected artifacts. "All of this was so important to me, and I was too stupid to understand how much I needed her until I lost her". His jaw became set in a firm line as he voiced the yearnings of his deepest soul; "If I'd really loved her none of this would have happened".

And that was it, Sam realised. The colonel had said he was hurting, but she didn't know it was this bad, that he was so distraught he was questioning the one thing they all knew he believed wholeheartedly. She felt so inadequate. She could follow military protocol to the letter, she was a good soldier, she knew. She could pretty much out-think anyone in the world when it came to astrophysics, but she couldn't stop his pain, couldn't release his burden. The only thing she could do was pull him into an embrace and hold onto him tightly. His hold was limp at first, unresponsive, but then he gripped her tightly, desperately, like she was his buoy in a vast, rough ocean. She had trouble breathing and the rims of his glasses were digging into her skin where his face was buried against her neck, but she didn't dare pull away from him.  
He didn't shed a tear, but she got the feeling from the way the colonel had spoken to her he'd done enough of that the previous night.

When Daniel finally released her, he gave her a small, grateful smile and went to sit back at his desk, once again picking up the picture. She had been dismissed, she knew. He had been comforted by her presence slightly, but now he needed to be alone. Sam began to move towards the door, but felt she couldn't just leave without letting him know how she felt. "Daniel…" she began, and although his gaze didn't waver from the glass in front of him, she knew he was listening. "If anyone knows what love is, it's you. And Sha're knew that" she gave him a sad smile "If you ever want to share anything with me…well…you know where I'll be". He didn't move and inch, so she slowly walked out of the room. As she crossed the threshold, she heard him whisper a soft "Thanks Sam" before she left him in peace. She walked the halls of the SGC aimlessly, simply wishing that there were more she could do. But she was grateful that she gad given him some peace, if only for a brief moment.

* * *

Daniel sat alone in his office. He ignored the dancing Egyptians across his computer screen, ignored the stack of paperwork and half-finished translations that cluttered his desk. Instead he stared at the photo of his wife, the only one he had to remember her. But it was quiet and cold in his office as he sat in the half-darkness. Remember, they all had urged, but not here in this steel prison where he couldn't see the sun. In his heart he yearned for sand and heat and the soft lilt of her voice when she called him for supper. He could never find his wife here on a planet she had never seen, never existed except in his dreams.

He needed to go to Abydos.


	4. Kasuf

**Kasuf **

* * *

It was on the second moon of the year when Dan-yel, son of Kasuf, returned to Abydos. He had been there, not a month before, for the burial of Sha're, but his time had been so brief that Kasuf had not been able to properly console his good son. But he had returned now, returned to the sands of Abydos, returned to Kasuf. Dan-yel may not be of Kasuf's own flesh and blood, but he loved him as he loved his two other children. Loved him all the more because he was here, with Kasuf, rather than buried deep in the sand or captured by a demon. It always brought a great joy to Kasuf's heart to see his good son, dressed in the traditional robes Sha're had made for him. Through Dan-yel was born of Earth, that land in the stars which protected them, to Kasuf his good son would always be Abydonian. 

His good son who always brought gifts from Earth for the people of Abydos, pens and paper and other small wonders. And always he brought a small amount of that creamy, delicious choc-olate for Kasuf, and the old man treasured every bite, often making a small bar last for weeks. But it was not because of the gifts that Kasuf relished when his good son visited, Dan-yel's presence was far more comforting than any small token could be. Kasuf longed for Dan-yel to stay on Abydos, to regale him around the campfire with tales from his homeworld, to give sound advice and suggestions about governing Nagada. But mostly Kasuf longed to see his good son smile again, but he feared Sha're had taken it to her grave.

Yet he welcomed Dan-yel as best he could, allowed him to stay in the home he and Sha're had once shared alone. Kasuf would have preferred Dan-yel to have stayed in his home, so empty now with both his children gone. But Kasuf did not want to interfere with his good son's wishes, and Dan-yel had asked to be left alone in the small house. Kasuf had preserved it perfectly, right down to the open book Dan-yel had been reading before being called to the pyramid, and a bracelet of Sha're's lying on the small table where it had been left. Kasuf longed to hold his good son, tell him all of Nagada, hear all about Earth, but he knew it was not yet time. So Kasuf left his good son alone, hoping that in the next few days, they would be able to grieve together.

* * *

He dreamed about her. It reminded him of an old fable, an ancient story. Lovers separated by an evil sorceress, the man, human by day, but transformed into a wolf by night. The woman spent her daylight hours as a hawk before being returned to human form when the sun set. But there was a moment at dawn, no more than a mere instant, when both were human. But it was only a fraction in time, enough to see their lover but never enough to touch them. They were separated before their outstretched hands could meet. And that's how it was in his dreams. He could swear she was there when the first sun of Abydos rose, coating the land in a quiet light. He could feel her next to him, her head resting against his chest, her arm around his waist. He would reach for her, to hold her again, but his fingers would feel nothing but cold air. He would open his eyes and would be alone. It was a daily agony he could not escape. 

Sighing heavily, Daniel pulled himself out of the bed they once shared. It still smelt of her, or maybe that was wishful thinking. But he swore he could smell her spicy scent among the pillows and sheets, the smell of herbs and the blooming desert roses.

_"Dan'iel" he heard her say impatiently, shaking his arm as she willed him to awaken. Daniel opened his eyes slightly, seeing the blurry vision of his wife haloed by the morning sun. "The day had started, my husband, and still you sleep" she said, chastising him. But he could feel the warmth behind her tone and the small smile that played on her lips and knew she was not angry. His head was pounding, probably due to the excessive quantities of wine he had imbibed in at Ni'ella's wedding the night before. It had been more potent than it had tasted and he knew now he'd overdone it. He was amazed that Sha're seemed so ready to face the day, she had consumed almost as much wine as he had. She'd had years to build up a tolerance, he supposed. _

_Blindly fumbling around for the robe he'd discarded hastily the night before, he was grateful when Sha're handed it to him, along with his glasses, smiling indulgently. Daniel didn't really the lenses any more, the sarcophagus on Ra's ship had done wonders for his poor eyesight. But he wore them out of habit, and the fact that his vision had not been entirely corrected. Things became a little blurry every so often. Stumbling out of bed, he moved towards his wife, who seemed amused at the effects of his hangover. "Do you not have such drink on your world, Dan'iel?" she asked, reaching out her arm to steady his faltering steps. He coughed, discovering his throat was parched. "Yeah we do" he choaked out, coughing again. "But we also have this little thing called Advil…" _

_"Ad-viel" Sha're repeated in English, struggling to get her tongue around the strange word. He'd promised to teach her English, and she was eager to learn the odd words of her husband. Returning to her native tongue, Sha're pressed on. "Do not worry, my husband, I have made you lak'na'ta". She gently guided him to the small table near the hearth, where a small bowl lay. It was filled with a green substance that had the consistency of water. Another Abydonian herbal recipe, he supposed. Tentatively, Daniel brought the bowl to his lips and drank the liquid straight down. Immediately he felt the pain in his head and throat alleviate, and thanked god Sha're had the knowledge of generations in healing potions. _

_"Better, my husband?" he heard her whisper into his ear, planting a soft kiss of his cheek. He turned his head, so that her lips came into contact with his. "Much better, Sha're" he replied, pulling her towards him._

Sighing at the memory, Daniel pulled on his glasses and rising. Ignoring the breakfast that Kasuf had brought while he was still sleeping, Daniel exited the tent and journeyed to the city gates.

* * *

Kasuf sighed as he watched Dan-yel once again journey into the desert. His good son was wise, but often foolish. The desert was dangerous to go into alone, even for someone who had spent so much time in as Dan-yel had. Few men braved the intense heats and wild desert creatures without a companion. If his daughter had been alive… 

He could try to stop him, Kasuf supposed. His good son respected him, he knew. He gave all the appearances of an obedient and loving son. And he was. But Kasuf knew that Dan-yel wouldn't listen to anyone when he had made his mind up about something. Kasuf would not be able to persuade Dan-yel to stay in Nagada, not when Sha're called to him from her grave. For many days now, Kasuf had watched his good son follow the call of his daughter out into the desert. What he hoped to find there, Kasuf didn't know. But Dan-yel came back in the early evening, unharmed and perhaps a little more at peace than when he had left.

Kasuf had brought him breakfast every morning, worried at Dan-yel's pale face and thin frame. Every morning his good son had ignored the gesture, which only caused Kasuf to worry even more. He worried that there was no one to take care of him on Earth, that he did not eat as he should, would never eat without Sha're's stern insistence. His daughter had been headstrong, and had she any other husband she would have been chastised for her critical nature. But Dan-yel had never minded Sha're's occasionally harsh words if he was too late coming back from the desert or had missed a meal. Now without Sha're, Kasuf feared Dan-yel would wither away. He wished there was some way to reach out to him, but his good son grew increasingly quiet and solemn. Even the children of Nagada, calling to him to join in with their games, to teach them some more English, did not make him happy as it once did.

Kasuf sat in the shade to rest his tired knees. He was getting old, and he needed the company of his son, the only child he had left, to comfort his final years. Tonight was it, Kasuf decided. Tonight he would ask his good son to stay.

* * *

The hot Abydos wind swept through his hair, although it did not tousle the length like it used to, when he had lived here. He was not the same man who had sat on these dunes, a few miles from the city, watching the sun set into the sand. Sha're had lain beside him, on the woven blanket they had placed beneath them for extra comfort. 

_"Should we not be returning to the city, Dan'iel?" she asked, confusing lighting her face along with the setting sun. Turning, he lay beside her, his head pillowed on her breast as he wound his arms around her. He didn't answer her, but then sometimes his silence was all that was required. After two months, she had already learnt his every move, every meaning through his actions. He wanted to stay out here, in the sand and under the stars, far away from the city. _

_Her fingers wound themselves through the locks of his hair, massaging his scalp slightly with her soft, delicate hands. Everything about Sha're was soft, he had discovered, apart from her sharp tongue. They argued occasionally, about small, stupid things like the time he spent in the pyramid and her constant fuss for him to eat everything in sight. He wasn't used to being taken care of, wasn't used to have someone worry about him if he was a few hours late. He was learning, though, very quickly, about marriage. Their fights were heated, but never viscous, and they were over as soon as they had begun. One of them, him more often than not, would give in, and concede defeat by giving the other a kiss. The making up, he had discovered, was well worth the argument itself._

_But they found peace in one another's presence, especially in moments like these, alone and in one another's arms. Her lilting voice filled the air around him as she sang softly. She had been embarrassed at first, when he had discovered her singing on day while fixing a tear in one of his robes. Her face had flushed a brilliant red when he sat beside her, listening to the soft rhythm of her voice raised in song. It was not that Sha're was shy, as tentative as she had appeared when they had first met, it was the simple custom on Abydos that women sang only in front of other women. The men did not listen to the chants the women sang while working, just as the men only raised their voices in drunken song while in the company of other men. _

_But Daniel was entranced by her rich, mezzo-soprano voice, and would not let her stop. For her part, Sha're put it down to one of the eccentricities of her strange husband, and humored him. She sang whenever possible around him, and at moments like these, her fingers running through his hair and her sweet voice filling his ears, he wondered if he'd ever been this happy before. _

An ache filled Daniel's chest as he moved to sit beside Sha're's grave. It was simply marked, a small mound of sand indicting where her body lay, and a small marker of stone. It had been on a dune like this that they had spent so many nights, watching the stars and making love, the velvety blackness covering them like a blanket. But now she was trapped in the Earth and he in the sky, forever separated. His heart cried out for her, for her voice, her touch, but she was gone and all he could do was sit here by her grave day after day. He sat in the sand as the sun beat down on him, wishing the ground would swallow him up and let him rest beside his wife. It hurt worse here, on Abydos where they had lived in such happiness. Everywhere he turned was a memory of Sha're, every square inch of the city and desert held her essence. Abydos hadn't made the grief any easier to bear, as he had hoped. It simply made the days and especially the nights longer, the bed they had once shared had grown cold.

Wearily, Daniel lay a palm against the cool naquadah stone, saying a final goodbye to his wife. He couldn't keep coming here, with only the wind and the small desert lizards to keep him company. He had been alone, and now he needed to be with his family. Whispering a final promise to her, Daniel rose to take the long journey back to Nagada. He knew that he would not return, at least for a while.

* * *

"Good Son!" Kasuf exclaimed, surprised indeed to see Dan-yel join the tribe for evening meal. Since his return to Abydos, he had retreated to his tent without so much as a word to anyone, and Kasuf was forced to send a plate of food to him. Inevitably the girl who was sent would return, saying Dan-yel had not so much looked at her, and she had been ordered to leave the plate by the door. When it was collected that morning, it was always barely touched. So he was relieved to see Dan-yel make his way to the centre of the tribe, near the fire and take his rightful place at Kasuf's side. Dan-yel's face still had that haggard, weary look, Kasuf noticed, although his eyes were slightly brighter that they had been the previous days. "Evening, good father" Daniel replied solemnly, nodding to the Abydonians who called to him in greeting. 

They ate in a companionable silence for a few minutes, Kasuf keeping a careful eye on his son as he ate. He was pleased to see Dan-yel eat heartily, and hoped the worst of his son's condition was over. There was a great ruckus around them, as there always were at meal times, women and men chattering, yelling and boasting, children playfully pushing each other to get to the food. Kasuf was a quiet man, a dignified man, and so, while he enjoyed the antics of his people, he never joined in. Dan-yel was like him in so many ways, he too had often sat there, smiling but never raising his voice in song or chatter. Tonight is son looked almost happy, and Kasuf decided now was the time to talk to him.

"Dan-yel, my son" he began, and was pleased to see Dan-yel raise his head, ready for a conversation. "You look very well in the company of your people" he said, trying to read the look in his eyes. Dan-yel smiled a little, glancing at a young wife scolding her husband. "Yes, good father, I have missed it here" he said casually breaking off a piece of bread and toying with it before placing it in his mouth. "Then you should stay" Kasuf chimed in resolutely, and raised his hand before Dan-yel could protest. Lowering his palm to place it on Dan-yel's shoulder, Kasuf looked earnestly into his eyes. "I am an old man, Dan-yel. I am not much longer for this world". He saw the sadness in Dan-yel's eyes and pressed on. "You are my son, and the House of Kasuf must live on".

"Good Father-"

"You are the only child I have left", tears started to form in Kasuf's eyes, "You belong here, Dan-yel".

* * *

The House of Kasuf? Daniel had never thought about it in those terms before. He'd never had the reason to think of it before. But it was true, with Skaara still possessed by Klorel, and Sha're's child stolen, if Kasuf were to die the Eldership would fall to him. Daniel would never desire such a position, he had never really thought himself as much of a leader. Could he really lead the Abydonians with the same fairness and devotion as Kasuf had? It was impossible, Daniel decided. He still had ties to Earth, to the SGC. He couldn't possibly stay on Abydos. But Kasuf had pleaded with him to stay, to remain his good son and be with him. Daniel had never known how much the old man cared about him, and had been shocked by the sadness in his eyes. Daniel always knew Kasuf respected him, as a man and as the husband to his only daughter. But there was more in Kasuf's words and eyes last night. Though he barely recognised it, it had been a father's love. 

Daniel was torn apart inside. Should he stay? Sha're was here. He could live in her memory for the rest of his life. And he could help the Abydonians, protect them, if need be. He would have the support of Earth, if the goa'uld ever decided to attack again. But could he really leave the SGC? There was Skaara to think about, not to mention Jack, Sam…even Teal'c. He would miss the companionship, the offworld missions they shared. And he had promised Sha're, sworn to her that he would find her son. He was only a child, in the hands of god-knows-who. Amaunet had hidden him on Kheb, he knew that much, but where was it? Was it a goa'uld stronghold, was Sha're's son even now being corrupted and exploited? He had delivered the boy, held him in his arms the moment he was born. For that one instant, he had felt what it was like to be a father – he loved the child dearly. He had failed to save Sha're, he couldn't fail her again.

But in leaving he would surely fail Kasuf. The old man was lonely, longing for the company of family that only Daniel could give him. True there were dozens of brothers, nieces and cousins in Kasuf's family line, but they all had their own House, their own family to tend to. To Kasuf loyalty was absolute, his people the most important thing in the galaxy. He didn't understand the desire to explore, the thrill of new cultures and customs and people. To him Abydos was everything, and wouldn't comprehend his good son leaving it.

Daniel walked for miles around the Nagada streets, and memories came flooding back to him. When he had lived here, Daniel could hardly walk to the market square without being hailed or assaulted by a Nagadan, inquiring to his welfare, asking his advice on some topic or argument or dispute. _Dan-yel, cousin! Come try my mana bread! Dan-yel, how goes Sha're? Dan-yel, friend, tell us again the story of Ra and the first world. Dan-yel! Settle this bet for us! _No one called out to him now, silently respectful for his loss. Mourning was important for the people of Nagada, they had a solemn respect for the dead and those they left behind. They were sympathetic, but only in their grave looks as he passed them in the street, nodding a brief greeting to him.

He wandered aimlessly, until he found himself at the city wall. He remembered this place, he had chosen it especially because of the large stretch of smooth rock that was not covered by cloth or tenting or stalls. It was the only suitable place in the city for which to teach the Abydonian children. He had started in his tent at first, once word had gotten out that he had taught Sha're to speak his language. Skaara and his troop of mischievous friends had shown up and asked – demanded – to be taught the language of their warrior friends O'nel and their saviour Dan-yel. Sha're had smiled indulgently, and he sat with the boys day after day, teaching them the fundamentals of the English language.

It wasn't long before his class grew in size, much to the admonishment of the elder members of the tribe. The children and teenagers were all eager to learn, and once he had found the stretch of wall he had set up shop, a rug thrown on the ground for the masses to sit. Sha're had made him a crude chalk from the red rock of the caverns, and he drew endlessly on the walls, teaching them first to speak and then to write. They looked up at him as if he were Socrates or Aristotle, teaching them philosophy and the – meaning of life stuff – other than simple reading and writing. But then, he supposed, it was all poetry, all mystical wonder to them.

Daniel moved towards the wall, running his fingers lightly over the faded red markings. Further down were etchings in the wall, made by Skarra's knife.

_"You're good to teach them". The children had been dismissed, due the intense pounding in his head. Share had apparently been observing the lesson, leaning against the wall, a large woven basket leaning against her hip which no doubt contained freshly washed clothes. He made his way towards her, taking the moment to remove his glasses and rub his eyes. "I'm happy they're so eager to learn. On Earth….people aren't so much like that" he said as he leant against the wall, facing her. He smiled then, and stood on her toes to place a soft kiss on his temple and he closed his eyes, as the ache subsided a little. "Head-ache?" she asked, observing his reaction. "Just a bit" he lied, and he could tell she didn't believe him. Righting herself to stand and adjusting the basket into a more comfortable position, she urged him to follow her._

_"Let me carry that for you" he said, reaching for the basket she carried. But she smiled indulgently and pulled it out of his grasp. "You teach, husband, and I will worry about everything else" she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she led them home. Upon entering the tent, Daniel immediately went for his journal, to inscribe his latest cultural observations before he forgot. Sha're ignored him, singing quietly to herself as she sorted out the clothes, separating those that needed mending and those that could be worn again. Daniel's headache was strong, however, and he was finding it hard to concentrate on the page in front of him. He found it even harder to concentrate when he felt cool fingers find their way to his temples to massage the tender skin. He moaned unconsciously as the pain began to subside and turn into pleasure as Sha're worked her nimble fingers over his neck and temples. _

_He felt her body pressed up against his back, and her soft voice singing in his ear. It was a lullaby, he noticed, although he had never heard it sound so seductive before. Sha're let her cool fingers and soft kisses relieve the pain from his back and head, until he couldn't take it any more. He turned himself around in her arms and saw only her triumphant smile before he claimed her lips with his own. _

The square was quiet as Daniel rested his head against the stone wall, trying to stop tears from welling up in his eyes. The stone was cold, like his heart. He couldn't stay here, Daniel realised. Around every corner was a memory of Sha're, of that year they spent together. Abydos still felt like his home, but it was empty without her. His bed was cold at night and the remaining Abydonains gave him no comfort. Not even Kasuf, who wanted him to stay so badly, so desperately. Kasuf, who called Daniel his son and wanted to him to lead Abydos. He wanted to stay. He wanted to sit by his father and learn, teach and lead for the rest of his days. He wanted to wake up every morning and bring fresh desert roses to Sha're's grave. He wanted to hold their wedding cup in his hands at night and dream about her.

But Daniel was no stranger to sacrifice. He had a duty to Earth as well, a duty to Skaara and especially to Sha're. To find the boy. To redeem himself for failing her and finally believe that she would be proud of him. Though it pained him deeply, he had to go.

* * *

Kasuf stood proudly in the centre of the Abydonian gateroom as he watched the Stargate spring to life. He bore no ill will towards his dear son for leaving him. He knew he had to share his Dan-yel's heart with the people of the Tau'ri, who had saved them in so many ways. But Kasuf's heart was still burdened will sorrow, to see his son leave again. 

"Good Father" Daniel walked up to Kasuf and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You know I would stay if I could…"

"But you must go where the gods lead you" Kasuf replied, solemnly. He knew that the Goa'uld were not true gods, but Kasuf still believed, not in something tangible, that he could see and touch and feel, but in a higher power. There was power in Abydos, in the sand and sun, and there was power among the stars. Fate, Kasuf believed. It was fate that guided Dan-yel's path, and fate that made him strong enough to accept it. "It gives me and the people of Abydos great comfort, to know that you are out there, Dna-yel" he continued. "Protecting us". He drew his good son into a firm embrace, and kissed both his cheeks in affection.

Kasuf saw tears form in Dan-yel's eyes as he drew back and spoke again. "Nothing will happen to Abydos, Kasuf" he said. "I'll die first". He looked grim, Kasuf noticed, and Kasuf sensed the sadness at having to leave. He could not comfort Dan-yel any longer, could not talk to him about Sha're any more. He knew that when his own beloved wife had died, the most important thing was to live in harmony with grief. His good son may never stop grieving, but at least now he was able to accept it and move on.

Daniel bade him goodbye and walked slowly towards the Chaa'pa'ai. Kasuf followed slowly behind, his hand on Dan-yel's shoulder. "Go with peace, my good son" he said, "And return to us soon". The last thing Kasuf saw was a faint smile on Dan-yel's face before he stepped into the light of the gods.

* * *

Daniel Jackson of Abydos stepped out of the wormhole into the gateroom of the SGC. His friends stood at the bottom of the ramp to welcome him, in civilian clothes he noticed. Teal'c gave a regal nod of his head while Sam flashed him one of her brilliant smiles. Jack smirked at him, and Daniel knew he was about to become victim of another quick quip. But he smiled in return, a smile that was genuine, not weighed down by the grief in his heart. General Hammond was in the control room, welcoming him back over the PA. Looking at his team, knowing they were about to drag him off base for some much-needed food and companionship, Daniel knew he had been wrong about one thing in his dream. There was hope here. 

There was hope.

* * *

* * *

* * *

A/N - Since this is the last chapter and the end of the story, you may have noticed (or you may not) that I haven't included a chapter for Teal'c. That is because I am working on another fic called "Human Rituals" which looks at Teal'c and Daniel's relationship in episodes like COTG, Bloodlines, Secrets, etc. It will include a big chapter on the fallout from FIAD, so Teal'c was not included in this story. So look out for it if you missed a Tealc-Daniel bonding/angst section to this story. Cheers! 


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